


Honey From Any Hive

by freddiejoey



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rowena is unaccountably annoyed........</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey From Any Hive

The longhouse doors thud open and out flies Lenni, with Kai in hot pursuit. If she could make a noise, she would be shrieking with laughter, and Kai is chuckling as only he can – so that even the door sentries smile at each other. You would never think that Kai and Lenni are the parents of the two tall boys, presently balanced on a nearby hut roof with their grandfather alongside my Kaitlin (simply there to prove that anything her male cousins can do, she can do better), learning how to thatch. To say nothing of the pretty blonde cherub sitting at my feet with Luc, or the new baby asleep in the longhouse bedroom with Shannyn.

Kai has caught Lenni now and, in sight of the whole village, practically throws her over his shoulder and carries her back to the longhouse. Lenni is pretending to be outraged and Kai is laughing so hard that he can hardly see to hold her. A few times, I’ve wondered if he is so overtly affectionate with his wife, because he can’t act openly in the same way with the one person his heart really belongs to……. but Lenni has certainly never complained. Secretly she loves every single moment.

Without a doubt, female hearts broke all across Arthur’s land and way beyond when Kai stood in front of Abbot Morphett with our little village healer. That smile and soft blonde hair and flashing brown eyes and, inevitably other things, have all combined to make Kai – well, simply irresistible. Even now, women who are quite staid in every other facet of their lives, will virtually swoon at the sight of that glorious Saxon bum swinging onto horseback, clad in tight black breeches. Sometimes it is because they still carry warm memories of certain activities in the stables or down beside the lake, before they became respectable wives and mothers; generally it is merely because it is Kai……

Long before Arthur ever come seeking my father’s horses, I had heard about his handsome flaxen-haired brother and how women seemed to fall at his feet. Although even now a few of the stories still confuse me – whatever Kai was doing ploughing instead of the oxen I’ve never been able to fathom or how he ever found Mark’s gimlet-eyed Eithna desirable.

Of course, Lenni knew all there was to know about certain other matters for years before me. So, without this steady parade of female conquests, I think that she would have eventually lost hope and settled for Olwen’s very pleasant younger brother Alawn who had long carried a torch for her. The woman is a true lesson in persevering like the snail who at last reached the Ark.

One of my fears was that if -and it was always if for so long, never when – I married Arthur, that Kai would become besotted with some beautiful, but empty-headed twit, with whom I would have to share a hearth. Luckily, instead I have Lenni, who is far better than any sister – clever and witty and so competent at so many things where I am absolutely hopeless. (Never tell anyone, but sometimes when a certain pair are being especially…… dewy-eyed with each other around the longhouse, Lenni and I find it just a bit funny….)

Around the corner now comes Arthur – and my heart skips a beat…… or twenty. Ignore the fact that it is over a decade since my marriage feast – as time has passed, I have simply fallen further and harder. Yes, we quarrel far more than Kai and Lenni – who in fact hardly ever argue at all, since Kai can smile his way out of anything where she is concerned. But Arthur is both stubborn and strong-willed ……which is precisely one of the reasons why I love him so completely………

There was trouble with the Saxons in the early spring – so, treaties have had to be re-negotiated and defences strengthened throughout the Celtic alliance. A few days ago Arthur and Kai arrived back from Mark’s in typically high spirits. Tomorrow Arthur and I travel to my father’s village. Not that I am going primarily to help Yorath with terms or pacts – more to help my cousin prepare for her forthcoming marriage. There is a certain white gown that has languished at the bottom of my clothes chest since Arthur sent Mark flying into the mud. Time to give it a new home where it will at least be appreciated – and it will suit Finna very well.

Arthur bends down to see what Maeve and Luc are doing. With perfectly intense four-year-old concentration, they are threading a length of hide through one of Llud’s bridles. Both are nimble-fingered and the bridle is very neat. Smiling, Arthur ruffles Luc’s short dark hair and Maeve’s gold curls – then pats me on the head, rather as if I was one of the longhouse’s large obedient hounds. And from that moment I become unaccountably, irreversibly, irritated……

I have never minded that, unlike Lenni, my……..experiences have been confined to Arthur - in fact, I have always found it somehow special. Just as Arthur’s reputation for being, shall we say, more chaste than his brother has never troubled me either (apart from anything associated with the odious Benedicta.) Nor have I often expected Arthur to behave towards me more as Kai does toward Lenni. But just sometimes it would be nice…….. Having, he thinks, adequately expressed his husbandly regard, Arthur continues on into the longhouse, apparently very satisfied with life – and leaves me seething…..

He and Kai and Llud sit up very late working out details of the new treaties on which Yorath’s petty chieftains will need to make their marks. So it is well into the next morning, when we are on the old Roman road to Yorath’s, that Arthur first notices my sullen mood. Perhaps he ascribes it to leaving Kaitlin and Luc behind – and that is a part (although they will be scandalously indulged for the four or so days we will be away.) But as for the rest……. I do not really have a good reason or truthfully any reason and somehow that irks me even more.

Shannyn rides along in a sling bound around my middle since she is still being suckled. My plump serene baby, now a little over a year old – how did two headstrong creatures like Arthur and me ever produce her? The gods alone know. I am simply grateful for her placidity. She looks around, bright-eyed, at her father, the three young warriors from our village who are accompanying us, the passing summer woods. At this moment, I envy Shannyn her tranquillity – but then being tranquil has never been foremost among my talents.

When we halt for the night, Arthur silently watches me being silent for a while and then sighs. “Alright, Rowena, is it something I have done or something I haven’t?” Which question exasperates me all over again since it reminds me of stupid bloody Mark and his stupid bloody vainglory during Arthur’s Games. I am aware that I’m being petty and probably ridiculous – yet I don’t care. “Go back and talk beside the fire.” I snap, “I have the baby to put to sleep.”

Instead, ever-practical Arthur picks up his daughter and strokes my cheek (nothing more of course, heaven forbid, with Steffan and Gaius and Rhun, a few feet away). “You must be tired. I’ll look after Shannyn. Get some rest.” I lie down and pull the sheepskin over my head, wondering if there is anything more trying than someone being considerate when you are determined to be provoked by them – especially when they look utterly delectable the whole while………………

Yorath comes rushing out the following day, happy to see Arthur, happy to cuddle his granddaughter, frowning at my stormy expression. “Oh daughter, if the wind changes while you look so……” he mutters, shaking his head. Naturally we are soon in the midst of a very familiar argument, amusing Arthur, shredding my nerves further.

The meeting with Yorath and his petty chieftains is over much more quickly than any of them had anticipated. I sit watching Arthur in what feels like grudging admiration, setting out the terms of the new treaties, gaining their approval without much demur since what he says is so eminently sensible. He and Kai and Llud have done well. The next day then will be given over to hunting.

I can see that Arthur is extremely pleased – and with cause. At the feast that night, he is relaxed and laughing, relieved that the negotiations have been concluded so auspiciously. He smiles at me, eyebrows raised in enquiry, and I glower back. Much earlier than I really need to, I stomp off to our sleeping chamber, scowling at its one big bed, peeved because I cannot possibly share Shannyn’s wicker basket.

A few hours later, when I am wide awake but earnestly pretending to be sound asleep,   
Arthur comes in, closing the door quietly behind him. I hear him kiss Shannyn and take off his sword. He sits down on the side of the bed and puts a hand gently on my shoulder. “Rowena, are you really sleeping?” I breathe steadily in and out, now annoyed at myself for being annoyed at nothing in the first place - yet too obstinate to admit that I’m wrong. Arthur waits a moment, then lies down and is soon truly asleep himself. Whereas I am restless for most of the night. And when Shannyn’s chortling wakes me the next morning, Arthur is already gone.

Later that day, I bestow the white gown upon a jubilant Finna. Good riddance – at long last it will be useful again. Finna and her sisters are lively company – but, after a while, their incessant chattering comes to resemble the whirring of four glossy starlings. I always enjoy visiting Yorath of course – well, when I’m in an amicable frame of mind – but I miss the children, Kai’s wide smile, Lenni’s mischievous sense of humour, Llud’s warmth…….

Just before dusk the men arrive back from hunting. It has been a successful day – three boar, a doe and a stag, sundry other furry captives. Yorath bustles around, fulsomely praising the skills of his fellow hunters. From under my fringe, I watch Arthur. All tousled raven hair and blazing blue eyes and lithe strong body……. Hastily I steal away to the roasting pit before I become too giddy to remember how an animal is threaded on to a spit……..

The carousing and drinking will continue for hours after I retire to feed Shannyn and go to bed. Home tomorrow. A comforting thought. I am smiling to myself when Arthur walks in. His entrance takes me aback – I thought he would stay at the feast for quite a while longer – and what exactly do you say to someone whom you have been pointedly ignoring for no sound reason? Arthur looks at me curiously. “Well, I’m glad something has at last made you smile – you’ve been miserable enough for the last few days.” He slowly removes his sword belt, unlaces his shirt and glances down at sleeping Shannyn, waiting expectantly. I chew my lip, feeling ever more silly.

Arthur sighs. “Well I suppose there is only one thing for it then.” I think he is going to rejoin the men – and I can only blame my wilful self….. Instead he crosses to the bed, grinning, and delves under the sheepskins. Then I feel his tongue against my lips – only it is not my mouth he is caressing…………

Immediately I start to whimper. Arthur looks up laughing. “Ah, so you are still talking to me.” Indeed talking is an utterly insufficient word to describe what happens when his fingertips dance across my nipples…… his sweet-tasting mouth teases mine……. as he glides within me….. but then no words would ever be adequate any way…….

Afterwards, I lie with my face pressed against his chest, feeling more foolish than it is humanly possible to feel – yet still succeeding in doing so. I can tell that Arthur is smiling, lovely, wonderful, man. ‘Are you going to tell me what was wrong Rowena?” Blushing I shake my head, not daring to look up. If ever there was a lunatic moonstruck woman……. “Are you going to say anything?” My voice is muffled. “I love you.” Arthur laughs. “Making progress. Are you finally going to look at me then?” When I raise my eyes, his are very deeply blue, - and very amused. “Sometimes you are extremely exasperating. Now, if you weren’t so necessary to the balance of my defences….” I smile, knowing that he is being deliberately provocative……. knowing that I am absolutely happy……… knowing that any bargains I may have struck with fate have been weighted in gold…… “Sweet dreams, sweet Rowena,” is the last thing I hear him whisper before I drift off into contented sleep……..

Yorath beams at me the next morning as I place his bannock and honey in front of him, humming to myself. “Well daughter” – he glances sideways at Arthur - “I’m glad to see that you two have made up your quarrel for now.” Arthur looks startled. “We haven’t been quarrelling.” My father gives a bark of laughter. “Arthur, I may be fast approaching my three score years and ten but my eyes are still as keen as ever. I wouldn’t worry though – there are more sides to a woman’s argument than there are quills on a hedgehog.”

From behind Yorath’s back, I stick out my tongue at him. Arthur bites his lip and goes on feeding Shannyn bread dipped in milk. He looks exactly as he does every day – which is beautiful beyond bearing. Suddenly it is not honey from any hive that I am craving…….. I never believed it was possible to float and melt in the same moment – yet, somehow now, I manage both with ease………

The next day we breast the ridge above the village and I can see the smoke rising from the longhouse as if in greeting. Behind me Arthur’s young warriors are jostling to see who can race to the palisade first. Arthur turns to me, smiling . “I think perhaps I can still get there before them and have the mead poured ready.” They gallop off, laughing - and, of course, the white horse flies into the encampment ahead of its darker rivals. As I trot more sedately in their wake, holding Shannyn, I see Kai rushing around from the stables grinning ecstatically at his brother in welcome, Llud striding out of the longhouse surrounded by a bundle of children, Lenni handing Arthur his mead cup. Always this is the best part of any journey – the joy of reaching home.


End file.
